Our choir anthem for Sunday, September 22, 2013: For the Lord Our God Reigns (Craig Smith, Davit T. Clydesdale; Word Music, 0 80689 25027 9)
Better Than School by Nancy Wallace (Larson Publications, 1983)
Child's Work: Taking Children's Choices Seriously by Nancy Wallace (Holt Associates, 1990)
These stories of the education of Ishmael and Vita Wallace have been high on my list of favorite books since our own homeschooling days. Recently I re-read them both, confirming my suspicions that the Wallaces—flying by the seat of their pants in an era when homeschooling was almost unheard of, and often illegal—discovered many of the principles now refined in Project-Based Homeschooling.
The last time I read about the Wallaces' struggles with onerous regulations and imperious school boards, I noted how blessedly out of date it was, for although there are still those in the United States who would make homeschooling illegal again if they could, for the most part homeschoolers here can rest in the knowledge that the right to direct the education of our own children is recognized in all fifty states. This time, however, I read those parts of the books with renewed interest, since Switzerland, while much more advanced than the U.S. in some areas, is woefully behind us in this. Some of the Wallaces' experiences and arguments may turn out to be relevant, or at least to give inspiration.
Don't you just hate it when you read an inspiring story from the past and have no idea what happened to the characters in subsequent years? With Vita and Ishmael, at least, that question can be answered by visiting their Orpheo Duo website.
Here are a few, somewhat random, quotations. You really need to read the books to get a good sense of the story, however.
Walking into the meeting knowing that we had a majority [of the school board] on our side was a lot better than not knowing what to expect, but I guess I really wanted more than that. I wanted the whole board to admit that we were doing a terrific job with our kids and to be interested in our approach to education. After all, there was a lot the public schools could have learned from us. What disturbed me the most was that not only were two of the board members completely uninterested in what we were doing but they seemed to want the kids to go to school no matter what. When I wrote about this to John Holt, he responded with some very insightful remarks that I'll never forget. "One of the saddest things I've learned in my life," he said, "one of the things I least wanted to believe and resisted believing for as long as I could, was that people in chains don't want to get them off, but want to get them on everyone else. 'Where are your chains?' they want to know. 'How come you're not wearing chains? Do you think you are too good to wear them? What makes you think you're so special?'" (BTS, 114-115)
Project-Based Homeschooling: Mentoring Self-Directed Learners by Lori Pickert (independently published at CreateSpace, 2012)
Janet's enthusiasm over Project-Based Homeschooling led me to be sure I read the book while I had access to it in Switzerland. I had to get over some misconceptions, and I found the ideas intimidating, but I agree: it's a must-read for homeschoolers, and in truth important for all parents. Maybe for everybody.
The Misconception Way back when, in our homeschooling days, a popular approach was called Unit Studies. Here's an essay on unit studies as they relate to what's now called Classical Education; it give a pretty good idea of what they are about. Basically, you pick a topic you hope your child will be interested in, and integrate the teaching of all subjects into a study of that topic. At the time, I found the method too structured, too school-at-home, and too much work. I assumed project-based homeschooling was a re-working of unit studies.
I was wrong. There are similarities: a child working on a project is integrating many disciplines and skills together. But project-based homeschooling is an excellent example of why unschooling, well done, is absolutely not the "let the kid play video games all day" approach its detractors think it is.
Projects of this sort are the child's idea and the child's responsibility. That doesn't mean, however, that the parents are off the hook. It seems to me that the work involved in observing and coaching a project is much harder than following a curriculum. Which leads me to ...
The Intimidation I love the ideas. I really do. But even as a do-it-yourself, lone wolf kind of homeschooler, this is out-of-my-comfort-zone thinking. Probably because if Earth is my comfort zone, art projects are somewhere around Neptune, and so much of the examples here involve using art materials. The author seems to think it natural to work through one's ideas by making a painting or modelling in clay. I don't believe I've ever in my life even thought about doing that—and I've live a lot of years—so the idea of coaching a child to do so leaves me queasy. Fortunately, Lori Pickert was kind enough to explain, in a comment on Janet's review, that "if drawing and painting make you nervous, there’s still building, writing, designing t-shirts and websites, putting on skits, making brochures and posters, etc. etc. etc.—it’s more about helping kids figure out a way to help others learn and along the way that reinforces what they know/don’t know and how you collaborate, share, etc."
Also, she's careful to give the neophyte a break:
Surprisingly often, people will champion self-directed learning for children but not allow those children's parents the same freedom and respect. It's their way or the highway, and you had better start doing it the right way (their way) right away. Your kids should learn at their own pace, follow their interests, and you should trust that they'll eventually learn everything they need to know. You, on the other hand, should get with the program, right now, 100%, or else. You don't need to have your own opinions or ideas; ours will suffice. There's no time to experiment and see if these ideas work for you; take it on faith or you're part of the problem.
If your child deserves to learn at his own pace and have his own ideas, so do you. Whatever you champion for your child, make sure you also give to yourself: the right to follow your own path, work at your own pace, follow your own interests, make mistakes, and try again. Whatever you want for your children, you are far more likely to help them achieve it if you live it yourself.
It's hard to do justice to the project-based homeschooling concept without taking a lot more time and effort than I'm willing to put forth at the moment—not to mention that I'd need the book, which presently is some 4500 miles away. However, I do have some excerpts, which I copied down before relinquishing the book. (More)
Our choir anthems for:
August 8, 2013 And the Father Will Dance (Mark Hayes). Always one of my favorites. You know how I often remind you that these are videos I found on YouTube, not our own choir? Well, this one isn't of our church choir, and it isn't the best recording, but it's a special recording for some of us. Ignore the extraneous frames at the end. I didn't notice that Windows Movie Maker had added them until it was already uploaded. For this purpose, GEIBTP*. Bonus points if you can guess the identity of the baby.
UPDATE 10/30/19. It's pretty consistent that the automated conversion of Flash in old posts to iframe excised a chunck of the post wherever there was more than one video. I can't recover the text, which at least gave the date for when we sang the anthem in the second video (now appearing first), but here's the missing first video, which goes after "guess the identity of the baby."
Many thanks to our friend RW, who alerted us to this Wall Street Journal article about a wine-tasting bicycle journey through the Wallis in Switzerland. The timing was perfect, because that's the part of Switzerland we had the privilege of visiting while waiting for Daniel to make his entrance. Janet wrote some about the trip here, and I hope to post my own memories soon—before I forget more than I already have. In the meantime you can get some of the flavor of the canton (though, not, alas, the wines) through the article.
I have a correction to make, however.
And the Matterhorn delivers—as long as you don't mind seeing it with the crowds through the clouds.
And this is what Switzerland should say to New Zealand:
In a letter to his son, J.R.R. Tolkien claimed that a visit to the Upper Valais [Wallis in French] and neighboring Lauterbrunnen Valley inspired the Elven outpost of Rivendell in his books.
Having visited both the Wallis and Lauterbrunnen, I can now claim to have been not only to Middle Earth, but to Rivendell itself. The Shire, however, I expect I'll have to find on a trip to England.
For most of his journey, the author rode what's called an e-bike: not, as I originally thought, some sort of virtual tour, but a modestly-powered bicycle that "helps me on the climbs yet is easy enough to carry on the train." That sounds like a brilliant invention for climbs that even Steven Perezluha might find daunting, or maybe even for weary, out-of-shape mothers who would appreciate a little help trying to keep up on family bike trips.
This journey was about wine, and ours was not, but the article captures the feel of the area so well it was pure delight to read. You might enjoy it, too, for a little glimpse of what we saw this summer. Of course, the article neglects to mention the mountain pass with frequent, hair-raising switchbacks, driving rain and hail, two carsick kids, and a woman threatening to go into labor. For that, you'll have to wait for my version.
The Occasional CEO has an interesting take this morning on our obsession with the "original intent" of the Founding Fathers when the Constitution was crafted. It confirms my long-held belief that the most amazing thing about the Constitution is that it has worked as well as it has for all these years. Imperfect as it may be, a compromise that no one was happy with, it serves well as an anchor to restrain the human tendency to be "tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness."
(I would have written about this even if I couldn't have used Eric Schultz's cool image above, which is originally from uvamagazine.org, but I think it captures the obsession neatly.)
The founders, Wood concludes, succeeded so well in promoting democracy and equality among ordinary people that that’s precisely what they got. Neither Washington, who led the common man in battle, nor Adams, who represented him in court, had any illusions about human nature, preferring a strong national government (led by a wise elite). Jefferson, the great champion of the common man, could not have tripped over more than a few common men in all his years in Paris and on his great plantation, so when he finally understood late in life [who] they were and what they were like, he was dumbfounded. (That's why, when we quote him, we use the early stuff.)
By 1820, the great experiment had spun wildly out of control, far beyond the vision or comfort of its creators.
[T]here was one Founder who would today be fundamentally comfortable and happy with the results of the great American experiment. Alexander Hamilton, Jefferson’s lifelong enemy, was an immigrant, an opponent of slavery, a proponent of a large standing army, and (like Adams and Washington) had serious doubts about democracy. He was the only Founding Father who understood finance, banking, capital creation and fundamental economics, the only one who truly comprehended the Industrial Revolution. He believed America in time would become more urban and industrial, more hierarchical and unequal. ... Hamilton was the true genius of Republic 1.0—and, as sometimes happens, almost none of his coFounders understood what he was doing.
It's well worth reading, and makes me want to read Gordon Wood's Revolutionary Characters, which was the article's inspiration.
It was in 2002, barely a year after it was written, that I first heard of Blessed Be Your Name by Matt and Beth Redman.
(Dir gehört mein Lob, wenn der Segen in Strömen fließt,
du mir mehr als genügend gibst, dir gehört mein Lob.
Und dir gehöert mein Lob, auch wenn ich mich verloren fühl
in der Wüste und ohne Ziel, dir gehört mein Lob.
Jeder Segen, den du schenkst, wird zum Lob für dich,
und selbst wenn ich im Dunkeln steh, Herr, gilt das für mich.
Jesus, dir gehört all mein Lob, dir gehört mein Lob.
Jesus, dir gehört all mein Lob, deinen Namen preise ich, Herr.
Dir gehört mein Lob, wenn die Sonne am Himmel scheint.,
es "das Leben gut mit mir meint", dir gehört mein Lob.
Und dir gehört mein Lob, wenn der Weg auch nicht einfach ist,
sich mein Lobpreis mit Leiden mischt, dir gehört mein Lob.
Jeder Segen, den du schenkst, wird zum Lob für dich,
und selbst wenn ich im Dunkeln steh, Herr, gilt das für mich.
Jesus, dir gehört all mein Lob, dir gehört mein Lob.
Jesus, dir gehört all mein Lob, deinen Namen preise ich, Herr.
Egal, was du mir gibst, egal, was du mir nimmst,
du bist und bleibst mein Gott, nur dir gehört mein Lob.
Egal, was du mir gibst, egal, was du mir nimmst,
du bist und bleibst mein Gott, nur dir gehört mein Lob.
Jesus, dir gehört all mein Lob, dir gehört mein Lob.
Jesus, dir gehört all mein Lob, deinen Namen preise ich, Herr.
Jesus, dir gehört all mein Lob, dir gehört mein Lob.
Jesus, dir gehört all mein Lob, deinen Namen preise ich, Herr.)
What brings all this to a post, besides the fact that I recently had the opportunity to sing the German version at Janet and Stephan's church in Switzerland, was that at choir reheasal Wednesday (9/11/13), I learned the story behind the song. You can read about it here. Matt and Beth Redman flew to the U.S. on September 15, 2001 for a sabbatical, and found themselves immersed in the reaction of the country, the churches, and the people to the shock of the terrorist attacks. They wrote Blessed Be Your Name a few weeks later, after realizing that the church (especially, I would say, the modern church) has far too few songs to sing in times of deep sorrow.
[N]early everywhere we visited, a worrying question began to arise: Where were the songwriters at such a time as this? Where were the musical poets and prophets to help the people of God find a voice in worship at this tragic time? The truth was, in most places we visited (or led worship in), there was a distinct lack of songs appropriate for this time. As songwriters and lead worshipers, we had a few expressions of hope at our [disposal]; but when it came to expressions of pain and lament, we had very little vocabulary to give voice to our heart cries.... The truth is, the Church of God needs her songs of lament just as much as she needs her songs of victory.
Blessed Be Your Name does an effective job of putting that lament in the context of faith and hope.
UPDATE 10/30/19. As has happened before, something was excised from this post when Flash was converted to iframe. I'm not sure what, but I know at least that there was a German version of the song embedded above the German words. Here it is—not what I originally had, but good enough.
Every kid knows how wonderful it is to bounce on the bed.
I'm certain the world would be a saner and happier place if we all had access to jumping pillows. Not to mention healthier—what a fun form of exercise!
I need to ponder this a lot more. I think I've just been struck by lightning.
From Jen at Conversion Diary: "The Mental Neat Freak."
When Joe came home that evening, I was at my wits’ end. I was mentally fatigued to the point that I felt like I was on the brink of a breakdown, and could barely restrain myself from yelling at everyone about everything. When Joe asked what was wrong, I snapped, “I’ve been doing nothing but working ALL DAY. I JUST NEED A BREAK.”
It was kind of awkward when he reminded me, “Didn’t you spend half the afternoon at that nice salon?”
Oh.
I stopped whining immediately, per that law of the universe that states that you’re not allowed to complain about anything for at least six hours after you’ve had an aromatherapy scalp massage. Yet I still felt miserable. No matter how many times I admonished myself to FEEL GRATITUDE NOW, I still walked around in that red-zone state where I desired a break like a drowning man desires oxygen.
...
The big moment occurred when I was trying to explain to my friend why I did not find the salon trip relaxing. “What would you have rather been doing?” she asked.
I knew the answer immediately: “Writing.”
...
[F]inally, after digging my way through piles and piles of words, I hit the core of the issue: “It brings order to my brain. It’s like…there are all these things that happen in my days that make my mind feel — I don’t know how else to describe it — messy. Like I’m surrounded by chaos, but on the inside. And it keeps piling up and piling up, to the point where sometimes I feel like I’m drowning.
...
Just like with physical space, it is possible for your mental space to get “messy.”
Again like with physical space, it is critical to your sense of peace and wellbeing to regularly clean up your mental space....
I think the biggest insight, though, was this:
Just because an activity is relaxing doesn’t mean it’s good for helping me regain a sense of internal order.
There's a lot more to the article, so if this resonates at all with you—or if you know someone who seems inexplicably stressed by a life filled with activities that you think should be relaxing—do take the time to read the whole thing. I suspect this is a major reason why programs such as Mind Organization for Moms and Getting Things Done are so popular: they recognize the debilitation caused by mental chaos. What "Mental Neat Freak" adds is recognition of the need to identify and deliberately choose activities that promote clearing of mental clutter, which may or may not be connected to organizational activities. Jen, for example, has so far discovered the following activities to be very helpful:
Writing
Jogging while listening to music (oddly, it has to be both — one or the other doesn’t do it)
Reading a well-written book
Nearly everyone could be helped by MOM and GTD, but mind-chaos-taming activities are clearly many, varied, and personal.
For three weeks our tiny a cappella choir struggled to learn the parts to the Ralph Vaughan Williams (King's Weston) version of At the Name of Jesus. (You can hear it here, if you click on the MIDI link. I tried to find a YouTube version, but none features the hymnal harmony.) It's a great harmony, if difficult, and would have been even better (and perhaps easier) if Porter had been there to provide the tenor.
I was looking forward to singing it at church sometime, but yesterday when I checked out the Episcopal Hymnal (1982) I discovered that it has only the melody! Tragedy! Travesty!
Maybe someday we'll sing the real version as an anthem, or in an ensemble ... or whenever we next manage to get the whole family together again. I want to sing it with all four parts!
